Can I Interest You in Spaghetti?
by WickedScribbles
Summary: Frisk has broken the Seal on the Underground, and the first one to leave for the Surface is Mettaton. Little does he know he's leaving behind his biggest fan and devoted skeleton guardsman, Papyrus. How will he cope with his favorite celebrity gone from the Underground for good? Papyrus/Mettaton. Sort of a spin-off of my main story. Enjoy!


Papyrus loved a lot of people. There was Sans (even if he was infuriatingly lazy), Frisk, Undyne, Alphys, even the King and Queen. For years, they had been important people in his life. He cared about them all immensely, never hesitating to express to those closest to him how much he loved them. Papyrus had a lot of love to give, and no problem telling his friends that he treasured them.

They all reacted to the phrase in different ways; Sans would roll his eyes but grin a little and say it back. Undyne would give him a hearty slap on the back that made his skull rattle, yelling her love for him in return. Frisk would always beam, only getting more appreciative of the little phrase over the years. Papyrus had a sad feeling that whoever had taken care of her before she Fell didn't say that to her a lot, so she received the majority of his platonic affection.

But lately...there was something different he was feeling for someone. It wasn't _quite_ love. Or if it was, it wasn't the kind of love he'd ever felt for anyone else. It was overwhelming, huge, and even a little frightening at times.

And Papyrus had barely even seen him in real life.

His name was Mettaton. He was impossibly famous, achingly charismatic, and recently...too handsome for Papyrus to bear. While he had always admired the robot for his dramatic flair, his unwavering confidence, he hadn't started experiencing this new feeling, this new... _physical_ attraction til Mettaton made his new form public. He still remembered the first time he'd seen it...wowie.

The robot was beautiful. There was no other way to say it. Mettaton was not only more charming than Papyrus himself could ever hope to be, as far as the skeleton was concerned, Mettaton was the most handsome creature to ever exist. He dressed impeccably, but in Papyrus' mind, he was gorgeous no matter what he had on. His bones still crawled whenever he saw Mettaton's EX form...had there ever been someone so perfect as he?

And his eyes… Mettaton had eyes unlike any Papyrus had ever seen before - not unusual in terms of color or shape, but in behavior. They were...sharp. They seemed to shine with secrets and jokes that his lips would never tell. Though Papyrus had only seem them once in real life, they haunted him, played with his emotions. Never in his life had Papyrus wished that his magic was powerful enough to allow him to peer into the mind of another, just to maybe have the chance to know what that handsome creature was thinking.

He told himself that his attraction was irrational - of course it was. Mettaton didn't know that he even existed. Just because Mettaton was in Papyrus' living room every day, shining and glowing from the confines of the television, it didn't mean that they were likely to ever meet face-to-face again. Now that Frisk had done them all the wonderful favor of breaking the Seal at last, Papyrus knew that Mettaton would rarely be seen in the stale old Underground anymore.

It was with a heavy heart that Papyrus had to accept that his days would be filled with reruns; the time of new episodes was over. Maybe Mettaton would occasionally film a special, or something, and it would air here...but Papyrus didn't feel like that would happen often, if at all. This attraction truly _was_ all pointless, wasn't it? Papyrus would remain below, following his humble duty to serve the King, and Mettaton, oh, Mettaton...he was never meant to stay below the earth. He was a star in every sense of the word, and it was selfish of Papyrus to want him to stay down here.

Papyrus tried to never be selfish, or even feel things that were too self-involved, but this was a thought that he couldn't let go of. It was wrong, and he knew it. They had never even spoken to each other. Mettaton didn't know he existed. He didn't owe Papyrus anything. And yet...Papyrus wanted him to.

In the long hours of guard duty, scenarios swirled to life in his mind.

Mettaton would come to Snowdin to visit - the reason was unclear, even in his imagination - he would see Papyrus standing vigilantly on guard duty at the border of the town, stock-still, a perfect example of a royal serviceman (even though Papyrus had never stood completely still a day in his life). Mettaton would pass him by, and Papyrus would say something clever, a quip or a joke to welcome him into the humble town. Of course, Mettaton would think it was hilarious, and invite Papyrus to walk with him.

Obviously, it would be difficult to persuade such a loyal servant of the King to leave his post, but Papyrus would eventually break. He wasn't made of stone, after all. And how hard it would be to deny the wishes of one so handsome…

Mettaton would be impressed with his immense knowledge of the little town. He would eat up all the trivia and facts that Papyrus had memorized from the history book found in Snowdin's little library. They would be so engrossed with each other that the chill in the air wouldn't even matter.

Somehow, Papyrus would be sure to make Mettaton remember him when he had to leave. They would exchange numbers. They would call each other after Mettaton was done shooting, after Papyrus' shift had ended. They'd make time for each other, whenever they could. There would be late-night talks, recipes swapped and tested, life advice traded, puzzles pondered over.

Along the way, eventually, miraculously, they would fall in love.

But then Papyrus would check his phone, and the clock on its screen would insist that his shift was over. Daydreams fading, Papyrus would give in to the real life happening all around him, and homeward he would march. Alone.

Going home didn't make Papyrus sad - not at all. Sans was there, always good for conversation (if he managed not to fall asleep halfway through). Frisk visited often, coming over when the Queen was busy with whatever needed doing. She brought energy and laughter to their normally somewhat subdued life. Home was a happy place. At home, Papyrus had his kitchen, his family, his puzzles, his television show. He didn't need much, and he was content with the things he had.

Yet a part of him longed. It yearned and festered and _tore._ A year went on that way - work, home, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts. Never managing to consume him, but never relenting, either. It didn't become overwhelming until Papyrus let himself _focus_ upon it. Papyrus often had a difficult time staying focused on one thing for too long, but this was an exception.

This was ridiculous. Something had to be done. When Mettaton had announced his permanent move to the Surface, an address for fan mail had been posted at the end of the episode. It made Papyrus's bones feel how tingly. How thoughtful Mettaton was.

What an opportunity! Immediately upon seeing it, Papyrus had scribbled it down in a notebook and tucked it away. He'd never mustered up the courage to follow through with addressing a letter to Mettaton before, but Papyrus feared that if he didn't write something now, this feeling would go on forever without end. The wondering. The wanting. The _what if._

On a particularly normal day in the only home he had ever known, Papyrus sat down at his desk, found a pen, and began to write. He didn't know expect it to be answered - heck, maybe it wouldn't even be read - but he had to try. For the sake of his own tangled-up feelings.

 _Dearest Mettaton,_

 _I am but a simple skeleton. My life isn't packed with thrills or action - I'm happy and humble with what I've been given. I have a lovely home, a great brother and awesome friends. I am a great royal guardsman and am becoming one heck of a chef! Everything about my life is ideal._

 _Except...one thing._

 _I have been watching your shows since the very beginning. Every movie, every show, every sitcom, every musical. The cooking shows are my favorite! I always have you playing in the background of my home when I have chores to do, or just when I have spare time. Your voice is great company._

 _Last year, when my little friend Frisk freed us from the Underground, you made a speedy departure to the Surface. I am so happy for you! You always spoke of how much you longed to see it, in the old days of your talk show. It's delightful that your dream has finally been made real. Dreams are wonderful, beautiful things, and the fact that yours came true has surely made all your fans love you even more._

 _At the same time, I must confess something. Though I have never really met you, and have only seen you once fleetingly in real life, this place feels lonely without you. That's a bit silly. I know. But...I got so used to tuning in to a new episode every week. I miss you. I take great pleasure in re-watching old shows, but...it isn't quite the same. I hope this doesn't seem like a selfish confession - I don't mean for it to be. I'm just trying to explain that even though we have never met, even though you did not know I existed until just now, you feel like...a friend. A friend that I have lost._

 _And it causes me to feel something strange, a feeling that I have never had before. It's not always a pleasant one. I miss you. I adore your personality, your impeccable acting skills, your flair for the dramatic in whatever you do. I just wanted to let you know that you've been in my life for a long time, even though you were never aware. Thank you for that. rest assured that you will always have a loyal fan down here._

 _I wish you all the luck in the world for your career, and may your circuits always stay well-charged!_

 _Love from the Underground._

 _Sincerely signed,_

 _The Great Papyrus_

Papyrus let out a long exhale. This was really it. The letter was tucked carefully into an enveloped and sealed tight, the address printed neatly in the center. Gee, the mailman wouldn't be happy to see that the letter was going to the Surface. _Hmm…_

It was only 7 PM. Papyrus couldn't just _wait around_ for the mailman to finally make it to his house, then take an eternity to get the letter Aboveground. It was decided, then. Clutching the letter tightly in one gloved hand, Papyrus shut the front door behind him and broke into a run.

* * *

 _SURPRISE! Happy National Spaghetti Day! xD I've been slowly working on this project, but I knew when I heard that Spaghetti Day was today that I just HAD to get it finished up for posting. This was an idea that popped into my head a few weeks ago, and I've been collecting ideas and thinking up scenarios ever since! I hope you like it._

 _Now, this fic will not be rated M. There won't be any Papyton sexytimes here. I just...couldn't write Papyrus like that. HE IS TOO PURE. What I really want to do with this fic is showcase a relationship that grows carefully, and is built on a foundation of true affection and friendship. Isn't writing letters so romantic? I wrote letters to my boyfriend for three years (even though we only lived an hour apart and saw each other every week), and I really feel like they...I dunno, enhanced the way we feel about each other. I'm a sucker for a love letter, and this fic is my tribute to that._

 _I'm honestly not sure about the uploading schedule for this. Odds are, it will be an occasional thing. No set-in-stone updates like No Bones About It. Still, I hope it's well-received! I love to write Papyrus. He's great. Let me know how this was!_

 _Ever scandalous,_

 _WickedScribbles_


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